


Stories of the Past

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24483532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Maeglin was met outside the Doors of Mandos by a blond elf he had never met before, but who evidently knew his grandfather.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 77





	Stories of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Story Works Comfort Challenge.

“Hello.”

Maeglin thought he should have expected this. Not who was waiting for him outside of the Halls; after several minutes of staring after the initial hello, he was still no closer to figuring out who the blond elf was than he had been when he initially stepped out the door. But he decided he should have expected Námo to have arranged for someone to be there, even after he had carefully made it clear that he did not expect and did not want his parents, uncles, cousin, or grandparents there.

The last had been a particularly awkward conversation, as Námo had asked him what he could possibly hold against them and had not seemed to understand - well, Maeglin had heard every word said of Fingolfin in Gondolin, and he was sure Anairë was his equal in every way.

Then he blinked, noticing the elf was speaking again.

“It will be alright, your grandfather was much the same when he was first reborn. Or worse, actually, I thought he was going to walk straight off the path and into a creek, but he always did have a tendency to become lost in thought. It was what led Anairë and he to get together, so I suppose that overall it was for the best.” The other elf smiled again.

Maeglin supposed the nice and polite thing to do would have been to continue the conversation with some other polite comment. “You know my grandfather?”

He bit his tongue as soon as the words slipped out.

“I suppose Námo would not have told you who awaited you - he has the worst habit of that,” the elf said. “I am your grandfather’s youngest sibling - Arafinwë, though you must know me by that awful name your grandfather came up with of Finarfin.”

Maeglin froze.

While Finarfin had not been on the top of his mother’s list for stories, he had heard of her uncle, the King of the Noldor who remained in Aman. In Gondolin, he had heard more.

“Sire,” he said, hoping he was correct. Even if not, surely it was better to grant a higher title than a lower. And, of course, it seemed likely Finarfin was there to determine whether or not Maeglin was to be allowed entrance to the kingdom after the crimes in his first life.

Even as he thought that, Finarfin moved closer, until he finally had enveloped Maeglin in a hug.

“I have done this for more members of my family than you have yet met,” he said softly. “And I have held their prior deeds against none of them, even those who have directly harmed my family.”

Maeglin remembered faintly his mother saying that both of her uncles had been skilled in osanwe, which at least explained how Finarfin had known.

He did not remark on that, even as Finarfin’s hug tightened.

“Do you really mean such?”

“Yes. Come to the city. Met more of your family. Let them and I forgive you, and let past ill deeds define you no longer.”

Maeglin let the hands holding him begin to lead him from the gardens surrounding Mandos.

He took a breath and nodded.

He would trust this, he decided, as Finarfin began another story about Fingolfin and Lalwen.

Evidently, his family was not just legends he only was the shadow of.


End file.
